


I Will Keep You Safe And Sound

by deandratb



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: Highly selective bodyguard Penelope Alvarez reluctantly meets with the infamous son of a Canadian billionaire to decide for or against taking him on as a protectee.





	I Will Keep You Safe And Sound

**Author's Note:**

> For [trilbychild](http://trilbychild.tumblr.com/). Fic prompt: **Penelope as Schneider’s badass bodyguard**

Schneider was the 40-year-old son of old manufacturing money in Canada. He spent his life making the news for excessive partying and affairs with actresses and models, until he suddenly dropped out of the public eye. Rumors speculated that he was in witness protection, evading law enforcement, or had been disowned by his father and left destitute.

Penelope Alvarez turned her ex-military background into a career as a bodyguard who was highly selective about which clients she took on. She was solicited by Schneider’s father, the well-regarded Canadian billionaire, and met with him knowing only what the world did: he had a son with a reputation…and enough money to pay whatever it took for her protection.

When she learned that the job offer was to protect his son, she declined immediately. She didn’t want to be within fifty feet of **that** guy, the notorious raver from the tabloids. She had kids to think about, not to mention self-respect. And a loudly opinionated mother who always seemed to find a way to meet her clients.

The businessman offered her a consultation fee that was half of what she made on her last job, no strings attached. “Just go meet him,” he told her. “Meet my son and then decide.” 

She was surprised to realize that he didn’t live in a mansion; he didn’t even live in one of those gentrified condos that kept raising the rent prices in Penelope’s neighborhood. Instead, Schneider lived on the top floor of an old but well-maintained apartment building. 

A woman silently let Penelope in as she was leaving. Schneider was in his dining room, sitting in a yoga pose. He looked grounded, she thought, in more ways than one. He greeted her by name and smiled when she asked where his current protection was, since she had yet to see them.

“I don’t have any,” he admitted. “Father and I have a long-standing dispute over my lack of guards. That’s why you’re here.”

“What’s the dispute?”

“I don’t like having a…staff.” Schneider bit off the word like it tasted unpleasant. “I’m cool with a cleaning service and catering sometimes, stuff like that, but I don’t want people following me everywhere I go.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your father’s side of the argument?”

“I insist on living **here.** ” He grinned. “Which, yeah, I do. And I get how that leaves me more exposed, but it’s what I need to be okay. There’s no point for me, living a secure life if I’m miserable.”

She nodded. “Well, we might as well be clear about that right now. If I were to take this job, I would not be your staff. Or even your employee. I work for myself, and I was offered an independent contract by your father. He’d be the one paying me–I wouldn’t answer to you.”

“Fair enough.” Schneider didn’t seem fazed. She wondered if he was always this laid-back or if he was just used to his father running the show. Probably both, she decided as he aimed a slow smile her way and gestured to the kitchen table next to him. “You should sit.”

“Thanks.” She rested her hands on the glass top of his table and waited while he joined her.

“So?” He tilted his head at Penelope and she blinked.

“So…what?”

“So, do you have other terms you want to be clear about? Or, uh, questions for me?”

Schneider hesitated over that part, which surprised her. What did he expect her to ask?

“Do you live here full-time, or do you move between residences? I’m willing to do some traveling,” Penelope explained, “but if you live anywhere else for long stretches of time then this isn’t going to work. I have commitments that keep me in the city.”

“Commitments?”

She nodded, choosing not to elaborate. Most clients preferred to maintain a polite distance, but she had learned to shut down the curious ones quickly. With the dangers involved in her work, it was essential that her day job was kept as separate as possible from her personal life. Especially her kids.

After waiting another moment, Schneider shrugged. “No, I just live here. I like L.A. I travel a bit, visit family sometimes, but this is my home.”

A quiet knock interrupted their conversation and Schneider left the table to answer it while Penelope frowned at his back.

The older woman at the door was petite and slightly hunched over, and spoke barely above a whisper. Schneider leaned down to listen and nod along, then straightened up and offered her a smile. 

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Friedman. I’ll call my guy and get that fixed for you before the end of the day, okay? I’ll come down and check on you around seven, just to make sure.”

She whispered something to him that sounded like German to Penelope’s ears, patting his hand approvingly. 

Mrs. Friedman glanced past Schneider and smiled at Penelope before turning to leave. He didn’t shut his door until she had made her way safely back down to the elevator.

Returning to the table, he froze in the face of Penelope’s stare. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You-you just opened the door.” Her bewilderment escalated to irritation when Schneider blinked at her. “You didn’t look to see who was standing out there, you didn’t even ask–you’re the sole heir to a multinational fortune and you just opened your door like that, in the middle of Echo Park.”

“I know my neighbors,” he argued. “And they know they can come directly to me when they have an emergency–it’s way more efficient than putting in a formal request for the smaller stuff.”

“That’s not the point,” she said, feeling her nails dig into her palms. “You can’t know every single person who’s going to…wait.”

Penelope looked around his apartment more carefully, taking in the scattered projects that sat around his living room and the lists pinned to the fridge. “Schneider, why do tenants come to you with their emergencies?”

She had assumed for a moment that he was just the type of guy who threw his money around because he could, but it was clearly more than that. He leaned back in his chair with a disarmingly sweet smile as he confirmed her suspicions. 

“Oh, I own the building. I’m technically their landlord.”

“You own the building.” 

“Yeah. And I know, I could hire somebody to take over all of the maintenance, but I enjoy doing it. It helps me get to know all the tenants, and I learn new skills.”

She didn’t understand a word he was saying. If even a fraction of his father’s money had become his, Schneider was ridiculously wealthy. He spent his time playing repairman? Hanging out with the people who paid him rent every month?

He might be the strangest client she had ever met.

“Okay, whatever,” Penelope replied, waving that tangent away. “How soon can you be available to sign the paperwork?”

“You…you’re going to take Father’s offer?” 

“Yes.” She stood and held out her hand. “I have to work out the contract with your dad, but once we get that done, you and I can discuss specifics. Living arrangements, that sort of thing. Sound good?”

“Ms. Alvarez…Penelope.”

Her mind had already jumped ahead to negotiations she would need to have with the elder Schneider. “Hmm?”

“Why did you change your mind?”

She frowned. “I hadn’t made up my mind yet.”

“Yes you had. You came here prepared to say no.” 

He was right, though Penelope had no idea how he’d picked up on that. She didn’t consider herself easy to read. Protecting people required better control than that.

“Your father pays well,” she said finally.

“So would lots of other at-risk rich guys.” He held his front door for her, before she had the chance to open it herself. “Why did you decide to guard me?”

“Mrs. Friedman,” Penelope admitted, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. 

“She is pretty nifty,” he agreed, “but what does that have to do with–”

“You don’t even ask who’s at the door.” The exasperation in her tone was more amused than angry now. “You just open it.”

“So?”

“So now I get why your father seems desperate. You really, really need me.” 

Penelope tossed her hair back as she walked past him out the door. 

“I’ll call you in a couple of days, Schneider. Try not to die before then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from "Start A Riot" by BANNERS.


End file.
